


It Had To Be You

by MagicInHerMadness



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: AU, Drunk!Married, F/M, Fluff, Las Vegas Wedding, Light Angst, domestic!bawson, this fic taught me that married!bawson is literally no different from canon!bawson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9206024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicInHerMadness/pseuds/MagicInHerMadness
Summary: Ginny and Mike wake up married after a wild night. To avoid the scandal, they stay married until the end of the season. It's not like being married really makes a difference between friends, right?





	

**Author's Note:**

> When I started this fic, I had no plans for it to be 12K, but here we are just 4 words shy. The title is based on a Frank Sinatra song called "It Had to be You" that I heard at the end of When Harry Met Sally, which somehow strangely inspired this fic. I can't explain it. A trash mind works in mysterious ways.

Amelia looked from Ginny to Mike then to Oscar. She had a particularly frowny face herself but it was nothing compared to the three frowns in the room with her. Ginny's thin hands flexed on her knees and the little diamond ring on her left hand glimmered in the office's light. She had dealt with many a client in a similar situation, but none of them were Ginny Baker. To say the press couldn't get wind of this colossal fuck up was an understatement. The situation couldn't live outside the room. She sighed and pulled out her phone, looked through her contacts to make a call. She hadn't dialed that particular number in three years but she was that desperate. She looked at the three others in the room as it rang. "Okay Luke's a lawyer. He should be able to tell us our options here."

Ginny's eyes flicked to hers and she gave a small nod, acknowledging that it was indeed that Luke, her Luke. Well, formerly her Luke. He answered on the fifth ring, just before it went to voicemail. "Amelia?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Nothing's wrong with me. I'm fine. You're fine. We should talk more and all that. I've got a problem and need some legal advice."

"Okay..." He sounded unsure to say the least.

"Cool. I'll send you a check for the hour to guarantee confidentiality," she replied. "How easy is it to get an annulment?"

"Depends completely on the circumstances. Did you—"

"It's for a client," she interrupted. "What are my options?"

"Annulments are typically given in cases of fraudulent or deceptive identity such as an undisclosed past, or severely irreconcilable differences prior the combination of money and property."

"They got drunk married in Vegas yesterday," Amelia explained.

"Oh." It's a decidedly deflated "oh".

"Oh?"

Luke sighed. "Judges are very reluctant to give annulments for those marriages these days. There's been a real push to make people face the consequences of their actions."

"So they need a divorce then?"

He sighed again. "Given the circumstances of the marriage, an immediate grant of the divorce is unlikely. Best case, they get a judge who lectures them. Worst case, they have to stay married."

"For how long?"

"A year at least." Ginny's gasp happened in tandem with Mike's groan and she watched as they both lowered their heads into their hands.

Amelia frowned. "So what are the chances we get this done quietly?"

"Well divorces are matters of public record, and unless there are extenuating circumstances that can be proven deserving, the proceedings have to go on in open court. But you've gotta file for an annulment before you submit the motion for closed court or a hearing in chambers, and both of those will be heard in open court. Plus it's gonna take you a week to get before a judge."

"Shit," Amelia muttered. "Okay so here's the full situation. My client can't be seen going to court, and we can't have these kind of documents possibly leaking. We definitely can't have any press present for the hearings."

"Your client doesn’t _have_ to be present for any of these, but it gives the impression that they can’t be bothered to show up for court. Some judges don’t mind, but some will take offense. And the press can't be barred from court unless they're causing a disruption,” he replied. “And since court documents are a matter of public record, they could potentially be found in a search if someone knew where to look."

It seemed there was no upside to be found. "So, bottom line in your opinion as a lawyer, what do we do?"

"How many people know about the marriage?"

She looked at Mike and Ginny. Ginny answered, "A few guys on the team were there."

"And the crew at Pizza Hut," Mike added with a mirthless smirk.

"I would keep it quiet. Wait until the season's over, get a good attorney who knows which wheels to grease to get it done quickly," Luke replied. "And if it hasn't hit the papers by now, it's probably not going to, but NDRs for everyone would be best. Vegas is a haven for bad choices so I doubt anyone remembers them unless they made a scene."

Amelia nodded, already having figured as much herself. "Thanks. Your NDR will come with the check."

"Great." He hung up and Amelia looked at Ginny and Mike.

She shrugged. "So that's the plan."

Amelia looked at Isaac who sighed, threw up his hands. “We’ve been here more times than I’d care to admit so it’ll be fine. Can’t really be any worse.”

Ginny frowned at her shoes. Between her satanic hangover and the lack of a quick fix for this clusterfuck, this was shaping up to be the worst day of her life. She finally looked up at Amelia. "That'll be fine. Has to be, I guess."

She glanced at Mike. His typical frown was deeper than usual as he looked at a spot on Oscar's desk. He grunted, "Sounds good. As good as this can sound anyway."

Maybe it was that she knew him so well, or maybe it was that she was projecting her own feelings onto him, but he didn't seem as aggravated by this turn of events as she'd thought. She stood, hefted her overnight bag onto her shoulder and gave Amelia a pointed look. "So are we done here?"

"Yeah," her agent replied with a tight-lipped look. She knew she was itching to give her a lecture but that lecture might have gotten her beaten to death with Oscar's paperweight so Ginny was glad that she was taking the hint.

Mike stood too, grabbed his bag, and followed her out of the room. "Can I bum a ride in your uber, Baker?"

Ginny nodded and they walked out into the parking deck in silence. They stood on the curb for a few minutes before she turned to him. "This is gonna be okay, right?"

He gave a noncommittal nod, even forced a smile. "We already argue like married people right?"

"Right." She sounded too eager but she was hoping faking would have some kind of placebo effect on the anxiety doing jumping jacks in her stomach. "And nothing's actually different."

He nodded. "Exactly. We'll be fine. It's only like three months anyway."

"We'll be fine," she agreed. "Wanna get some breakfast?"

"Your treat right?"

"Is that how this marriage is gonna work? I foot the bill while you spend all your money on beard brushes and leather jackets?"

He laughed like she'd hoped. "Maybe we should spend all our money on those tiny shorts you can't seem to own enough of."

Ginny looked down at her shorts and snorted. "These are vintage Levi's. You couldn't be this cool if you wanted to, old man."

Mike shrugged. "Those are denim panties, rookie. I'll pass."

The uber arrived and they climbed in. She looked at Mike. "Waffle House cool?"

"Let's just go home and get something delivered. I need a shower like you wouldn't believe."

Ginny snorted. "Oh you don't have to tell me."

They decided on Mike's house because they weren't looking to be accosted by the press at Ginny's hotel.

Ginny's comfort in his home was something that didn't stand out to Mike until this development in their relationship. She kicked off her white Converse sneakers beside the front door and carried her bag upstairs. Mike called, "Use the guest bath!"

"No!" she called back and he only shook his head. Ginny was obsessed with many things about his house—especially his pool—but she loved his shower dearly. Mike had to admit it was luxurious with its rain simulating head, and he had been hoping to get in there first, but he could already hear the water running as he climbed the stairs. So this was married life with Ginny Baker, he thought as he stretched out on his bed. The sound of Ginny singing in the shower made him smile (he could also recall remember her singing "It Had To Be You" as they stumbled out of the chapel) but he didn't focus on it very long as his eyes grew heavy. He sat up and shrugged off his jacket then lay back down and kicked off his shoes.  

Despite his tiredness, sleep didn't come. Instead, his thought drifted to the previous night when he and Ginny had made their drunken mistake. Honestly, when they'd awoken and found themselves married, Mike was surprised that they'd done something that stupid, but not that they'd done it with each other. He couldn't think of anyone else he'd make such a stupid decision with. Now sober, he could vividly recall how things had gone.

XX

Ginny was stretched across the hotel room bed, an empty bottle of champagne beside her as she laughed at nothing. Mike sat on the floor beside the bed, his own champagne bottle empty. He was laughing too, at what he wasn't sure. Ginny beckoned him onto the bed with a wildly swinging arm. "C'mere old man."

He shuffled onto the bed, flopping beside her and starting a new wave of laughter in both of them. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. "You know, Baker, I give you a lot of shit but I love you. Your feminista rants, the way you’re always interrupting me—”

“No I don’t!”

 “You just did.” Mike laughed and Ginny did too. “And that horsey laugh. I fucking love that!”

Ginny laughed harder. “Okay. I love your…crankiness, and your speeches that are way too long, and your back-handed compliments.”

“And the beard.”

“I don’t love the beard.”

“You love the beard.” He laughed, brushed her hair back from her face. “You're my favorite."

“Favorite what?”

“Everything,” he replied with a grin.

She rolled onto her side and grinned at him. "You really mean that? I’m your favorite?"

"Of course I do. I've stuck with you this long, haven't I?"

She shook her head and laughed. "No _I've_ stuck with _you_ , old man."

"Let's just say we've stuck together," he replied.

She laughed and nodded. "I love you too, Lawson. I guess you're my favorite too."

Mike scoffed, "You're damn right I'm your favorite. You didn't invite anyone else here to get drunk with you."

"I never invite anyone else to do stuff with me, old man." She reached out and squeezed his face. "Somewhere under that monster beard is the love of my life."

Mike grinned, drunkenly pinching her cheek. "I feel like that about your sarcasm."

They left the hotel room in search of the blackjack table and found Sonny, Dusty, Blip, and Livan at the craps table. The turning point of the evening happened with a single comment from a sloshed Sonny as Mike and Ginny bickered over how much to bet. "Jesus fuck y'all argue so much you should just get married."

Ginny laughed, sagging against him. "Oh, what I'd give to be Mrs. Mike Lawson!"

"There's a chapel over there, Baker. Put up or shut up," he replied, pointing at the hotel's tiny wedding chapel.

Ginny looked down at her tiny sequined cocktail dress. "Can you get married in something with sequins?"

"Elvis is the minister so probably," he replied as he led her to the chapel by her hand, their teammates trailing. In the chapel, he expected Blip to object but a look at the center fielder revealed he was dead on his feet, Sonny and Dusty carrying him along.

In all, they spent more time in Pizza Hut at their reception than the actual ceremony which was essentially a payment for the quickie marriage certificate, a set of gold rings, and a couple of pictures that mostly showed Mike and Ginny laughing at each other.

XX

Ginny emerged from the bathroom in pajamas, a t-shirt and a set of boxers that she’d likely stolen from him, and flopped on the bed beside him. She took the picture from him and smiled at it. It was a surprisingly cute picture of them circumstances notwithstanding. She was pressed against Mike's chest with her head thrown back as she laughed. She couldn't remember what he'd said to make her laugh so hard but she guessed it was hilarious. What was more pressing was the way she hung onto him, her arms around his neck and his around her waist. If she was being honest, she was more shocked that they'd gotten drunkenly married than she was that they'd married each other.

"When I get a house, I'm getting one of those showers."

He had often teased that she was at his house so much that she should just move in, but with this change in their relationship, he didn't make his frequent reply. Instead he said, "You really do need somewhere else to live, Baker. The hotel's a nice place but..."

She shrugged. "I've been looking at places, but I don't know what kind of house I want."

"Well get an apartment while you look. The point is to get out of the hotel."

"My hotel room is basically an apartment," she argued then shrugged. "What do you want for breakfast, old man?"

Mike sat up and yawned. "Grease. Just get me a can of Crisco and a spoon."

Ginny laughed as she pushed off the bed. "Assuming you've got actual food, I'll do my wifely duty and make you breakfast."

Mike laughed too as he got up and trudged to the bathroom. "My greatest appreciation, Mrs. Lawson."

"I think I like Mr. Baker better."

"Not happening," Mike called as he went into the bathroom.

Ginny laughed as she went downstairs to the kitchen. She took out a carton of eggs and a slab of bacon and set them on the counter then went back for a loaf of bread and a few vegetables from his crisper.

Really being married wasn't that different from their current relationship, Ginny told herself as she whisked the eggs. They spent every day together as it was. Mike was a frequent flyer at her place and she had spent her share of nights in his house. And in the quiet of the kitchen, Ginny allowed herself to smile at the ring. Even drunk, they managed to pick out nice white gold rings, his a simple band and hers an identical band with a princess cut diamond. It was a dream come true for thirteen-year-old Ginny, and twenty-four-year-old Ginny wasn't actively opposed to it—at least not as much as she'd assumed she would be. Well not until Mike entered the kitchen, naked as a newborn.

She blinked at his bare ass as he scooted past her to open the refrigerator. "You want orange or apple juice?"

"Apple..." she replied, still staring at his ass.

He closed the refrigerator and set the juice bottle on the counter then looked at her. "What?"

"Any particular reason you're naked?"

He shrugged. "I always air dry after my shower."

Ginny smirked. "I'm sure we can count this an irreconcilable difference."

" _This_ is why you married me, Baker."

"A magnum of Rosé is why I married you, Lawson."

Mike rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, tell me anything."

Ginny finished her own omelet then started on Mike's. "What do you want in your omelet?"

He looked over the ingredients on the table. "Bacon and spinach."

Ginny added the bacon and spinach to the eggs then looked at him with a frown. "What are we gonna tell the guys?"

Mike shrugged. "They'll know enough when they get the NDRs. And it’s not like half of them haven’t done this exact same thing."

"What about Blip?"

Mike shrugged. "Somehow I don't think he'll be surprised."

Ginny nodded. "And Ev's gonna think this is hilarious."

They lounged on the couch to eat their omelets after Ginny insisted Mike put on underwear, and had what Mike teased was their first marital spat over what to watch. Ginny turned to look at him as she ate her breakfast. "So do you think people owe us presents or...?"

"Can you ask for presents for a drunk Vegas wedding?"

"It was still a wedding, old man."

X

Ginny wasn't sure what to expect when she entered the clubhouse, her bag on her shoulder, her wedding ring on a chain around her neck. Circumstances notwithstanding, she could still appreciate a nice piece of jewelry. She looked around for Mike and didn't find him, but another sight caught her attention. A "Just Married" banner and streamers decorated his cubby and she could see their wedding picture sitting in the middle of his things when she walked over and the guys noticed her presence.

"Don't try to sneak in here, Mrs. Lawson!" Sonny called and the room erupted in laughter. Ginny only smiled as she looked around the room. Even Blip was laughing, shaking his head when she caught his eye. He pushed out of his chair and walked over to her, a large gift box in his hands.

"Wait! The groom is here too!" Voorhies shouted and Ginny turned around as Mike came to a stop before her.

She gestured to the cubby and he snorted, shook his head. "Cute."

Ginny picked up the picture. It was a different snapshot of them from the chapel. Ginny wore a veil and Mike wore a top hat, tipped sideways on his head as they kissed. "I'm keeping this one. You can have the other one."

Mike smiled at the picture. "The top hat actually isn't a terrible look for me. But then what is?"

Ginny rolled her eyes then looked at Blip and his box. "What's this?"

His grin was almost too cheery as he set it on Mike's chair. "So we chipped in and got y'all some wedding presents."

She looked at Mike with a smirk. "Told you so."

Mike smirked back. "Clearly you've never gotten presents from these assholes."

First was a magnum of Rosé from Blip who grinned. "Hair of the dog and all that."

Ginny shook her head and put it aside. "Never again."

Then came a pair of handcuffs and a riding crop from Butch. He shrugged. "You never know."

Ginny laughed, smacked Mike with the riding crop, laughing when he jumped, and earned a chorus of hoots and whistles from the clubhouse. She grinned. "Oh I'm keeping this."

He shook his head as he took it from her. "No _I'm_ keeping this. It might help me get you in line once and for all."

Ginny laughed. "The cuffs are mine though."

"Fair enough," he replied.

Next was a pair of shirts from Livan. Mike smirked. "T-shirts? Way to be cheap."

"I'm gonna sleep with your wife," Livan replied with a smile.

Ginny's shirt was white and she smiled as she read it, "'I like his beard'. Okay this is cute but totally a lie."

"Bullshit, Baker." Mike snorted as he unfolded his own black shirt. "'I like her butt'."

"That's definitely true," Ginny teased with a smile.

They got similarly themed koozies from Sonny: “Mr. Right” and “Mrs. Always Right”.

“Nice,” Ginny commented with a smile.

“Even nicer,” Mike replied as he pulled out a six pack of Coronas, marked “His”, and a six pack of Corona Lites, marked “Hers”.

Ginny laughed and looked at Sonny. “You know us so well.”

Omar got them matching low top Converse, white for Ginny and black for Mike. Ginny grinned as she walked over to hug Omar, planting a kiss on his cheek because she knew he hadn’t gotten over his little crush on her just yet. “Thanks, Omar.”

He squeaked his response, his face red, and the guys laughed as she walked back to where Mike stood.

Last was a wall hanging that said, "'Til your unsolved murder do us part', from Salvamini. He laughed and explained, "There's two in there because I'm not sure which of you will snap first. We've got a pool going so keep the arguments public, please."

Mike smiled as Ginny doubled over, holding the picture against her chest. "I don't even know where I'm gonna hang this but it's going somewhere in my place."

"Y'all aren't gonna live together?" Sonny asked, looking from one of them to the other.

Mike looked at Ginny who shook her head. "We're married but not _married_ married guys."

He wouldn't have minded living with Ginny but he certainly wasn't going to ask and risk tipping his hand. Before he could make a snarky reply, Voorhies piped up, "Um, my room was next to yours, Lawson, and y'all are _married_ married. I heard the consummation with my own ears."

Mike watched Ginny's face redden as the guys erupted in laughter. She hadn't brought it up so he'd assumed she didn't remember, and he wasn't going to be the one to break the news to her that they'd crossed that line. He murmured, "You didn't know?"

"I knew," she murmured back. "I just didn't think anyone else knew."

Mike nodded. "You wanna..."

Ginny shook her head. "I don't think that would do anyone any good."

She vividly recalled their consummation, collapsing atop his sweaty frame in the center of her hotel bed, and particularly the final moments when, high off orgasm endorphins, he'd murmured, "Love you, Gin" and she'd replied the same. It was a certainly a necessary conversation, but they had enough awkward talks ahead of them.

Mike looked back at the guys. "So all these millionaires in this room and all we get are some lousy t-shirts and knickknacks?"

"Hey that riding crop is authentic Italian leather," Butch replied with a smirk.

Mike smiled, snapped Ginny’s ass with the crop and she jumped, let out a yelp. "You're the only one who deserves a thank you."

Ginny smirked, snatched the riding crop from him and shook it threateningly at Butch. "You're next."

X

**One week later – 11 Weeks Until End of Season**

Barstool was full to bursting after the Padres beat the Oakland Athletics, not that they took the loss terribly after Ginny invited them out to party. Mike sat at the bar, laughing as Ginny and the A's pitcher, Graveman, danced to Masego.  He looked up when a long-legged redhead—a woman who at one point would have been going home with him before her ass hit the seat—sat beside him and smiled. She leaned over and loudly asked, "You're Mike Lawson, right?"

He nodded, sipped his beer. "That's me."

She grinned. "I can't believe I'm meeting you! I don't even know anything about baseball but I'm such a big fan!"

He wanted to ask how she was such a big fan who didn't even know anything about his sport, but he decided against it, instead just replying, "Thank you. You want an autograph or something?"

"Or something," she replied with a mischievous smile.

Mike smiled politely, stopped her hand on its cruise up her thigh. "I think just the autograph would be good." 

"You sure?" she asked, leaning forward and pushing her cleavage out at him.

He nodded, returned her hand to her own lap. "I'm sure. Thanks though."

He left her at the bar but not before putting a ten-dollar bill down and telling the bartender to get her whatever she wanted. He made his way over to where the A's catcher, Vogt, was taking up a whole couch in VIP.

Across the club, Ginny watched Mike abandon the redhead, her eyebrows raised. She tried to remember another time she'd seen Mike turn down a groupie, especially one so pretty. She nudged Graveman, pointed her out, and he grinned, nudged her back before he left. Ginny looked over the crowd until she found Mike sitting in VIP. She walked over and he stood, smiled at her. "Ready to go?"

"Absolutely. You owe me a bacon cheeseburger combo—large—and a shake," she replied.

Mike smirked as he followed her out of the club. "Keep eating like that and you're gonna have to give away all those tiny dresses."

Ginny looked down at her black sequined dress. "Hey this is my wedding dress, old man. Show some respect."

Mike looked over the dress. "You can't just _re-wear_ your wedding dress, rookie. _You_ show some respect."

"It's our one week anniversary. I can't believe you forgot."

Mike snorted as they got into his car. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Lawson. Please let me make this up to you with a bacon cheeseburger combo with a strawberry shake."

"Large," Ginny replied as they pulled away from the curb. "And I'm spending the night so I can use your shower and go for a swim tomorrow."

Mike quirked his eyebrows at her. "Okay. I didn't have plans or anything so by all means, invite yourself to my house."

"Hey when we get a divorce, that house is mine," she teased with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"You're the hotshot rookie with all the new endorsement deals. Divorce me and you'll be paying me alimony, rookie."

"You're worth like 50 million dollars. They'll never grant you alimony."

He grinned. "I'm on the verge of retirement with some severely damaged joints. I have no marketable job skills. And \ I got taken for a ride by some twenty-something who dragged me to Vegas for a wild weekend. If the judge is over 40, I'm golden."

Ginny laughed. "That's an interesting retelling of events."

"That's the truth," he replied as they got in the drive-thru line. “Vegas was _your_ idea. And Beyoncé sent _you_ that champagne. Hell, _you_ picked out the rings!”

“But _you_ wanted to get married.”

“Because you lured me into your bed with the promise of champagne and who knows what else.”

“Oh there was _nothing_ else!” Ginny leaned over Mike to peer at the large brightly lit menu board. "Ooh they have creamsicle shakes now."

Mike shook his head. "Sometimes I can't believe you still have teeth, Baker."

Ginny shrugged. "I didn't get a lot of sugar growing up so now it's officially an addiction."

"Were your parents health nuts?"

Ginny frowned, shook her head. "I used to get sweets when I mastered a new pitch or got my batting average up, or if my team won, which was unfortunately like once a month."

Mike wasn't sure what to make of her revelation. He'd grown up with his share of issues at home, but usually there were periods of overindulgence after he and his mom moved. He couldn't remember having anything restricted except affection. "Is that why you actually fought Salvamini for that bag of MnM's?"

Ginny laughed. "He's always getting the last of the candy. I don't know how he does it but this is like the third time I've had to kick his ass over something. Honestly, I'm getting sick of his shit."

Mike snorted as he reached onto the backseat. A moment later, he dangled a bag of mixed berry Skittles before her eyes. "Since I'm such a good husband, I snagged these for you. Last bag in the vending machine and we won't get a refill until Monday. You're welcome, Mrs. Lawson."

Ginny grinned as she took the bag from him. "For these, I'll be Mrs. Lawson!"

After they got their food, Mike drove to his place and watched as Ginny sat before the bottom drawer on his dresser and took out one of his shirts. "Will you put my food in the oven while I shower?"

Mike smirks at her. "You're not welcome in my house anymore. Every time you're here, I have to wait to shower, wait to eat, _and_ you're all over my bed. You're the worst houseguest ever, Baker."

Ginny shrugged. "And yet you keep bringing me home."

Mike scoffed, "I haven't invited you here since like the first time you visited."

"Well I'm not leaving. This house is half mine." She skipped into the bathroom and Mike lay on the bed, turned on the tv.

For the past week, they'd been joking around about their marriage, but Mike had been putting off having any serious conversations about it. If he was being honest, he didn't want to know the truth, that it was a mistake and Ginny was just biding her time until she was free of him. Although his spirits buoyed when Ginny reappeared a short while later, smelling like his soap as she climbed onto his bed.

X

**One month later – 7 Weeks Until End of Season**

Ginny looked up from the tv. “You can go.”

Mike looked up at her with a frown. “You sure?”

Ginny nodded. “Yeah I’ve got pizza coming and a whole season of _Intervention_ to watch. I’ll be fine.”

Mike didn’t doubt her but team outings just weren’t the same without her. And though Sonny had pitched it as a “guys’ night,” she was just as much a guy as him. At least he thought so. “You wanna come?”

Ginny snorted. “Don’t be the guy who brings his wife, Mike.”

“But—”

“Didn’t you hear about the evening I’ve got planned? I’ll be fine. Go. Do man stuff.” She smiled cheekily. “Besides, I could use a break from you.”

“And yet you’re in my house. _Still_.” He smirked as he left to get dressed. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

x

When he returned, she was shrouded in a blanket, snoring softly in his reclined easy chair. Mike smiled as he nudged her awake. Ginny yawned, squinted at the clock. He’d been gone a little over an hour. She gave a sleepy, cheeky grin. “Early night, old man. Too much for you?”

Mike smirked as he sat the chair up. He wouldn’t tell her that ultimately an overeager groupie had sent him home, back to her, that he hadn’t felt right trying to politely entertain her with giving any indication that she was coming home with him. He shrugged as he joined her in the chair, jostling her half onto his lap. “Same beer, same bar, same conversations.”

“And you chose pizza and reality tv over _that_?”

He shrugged again, grabbed the pizza box and balanced it on their legs. Ginny fell asleep a few episodes in, her head tipped back on Mike’s shoulder. He stretched out, wrapped his arm around her waist, and she stirred awake, looked at the clock again. It was nearly midnight. “Whoa it’s late. I should call an uber.”

Mike shook his head. “It’s too late for that, Baker. You can crash here.”

“You sure?” Ginny hadn’t been home for more than a few changes of clothes in a week.

Mike nodded, smirking a little. “You know you wanna use the shower in the morning.”

Ginny yawned, nodded back, then headed for the stairs. Mike put the pizza away then followed. Ginny was in the bathroom, her hair up, washing her face. She called, “I borrowed a shirt. Hope that’s okay.”

The snarky remark on Mike’s lips was quickly forgotten when she emerged from the bathroom, wearing a plain white t-shirt. He could also see the bottoms of a pair of plaid boxers peeking from beneath the shirt. She walked over to the bed and stood before it. “Which side do you want tonight?”

“Left,” he answered.

Ginny sat on the right side, her phone in hand. She looked back at him. “I’ve been known to sleep through this on an off day so make sure I’m up by 9.”

“What the hell is there to do at 9 in the morning, rookie?”

“Yoga then grocery shopping.” She set her phone on the nightstand then looked at him as he shrugged off his green button down, revealing his own white undershirt. “Wanna come?”

“I’ll go the grocery store but I’ll pass on the yoga.”

Ginny shook her head. “At least try the yoga, old man.”

Mike kicked off his jeans and tossed them on the chair then took pajama pants from a dresser drawer and pulled them on. “We’ll see. You mind if I sleep with my shirt off tonight?”

Ginny shrugged as she got under the covers, and Mike took his shirt off, tossed it in the hamper, then got into bed, making sure to leave a respectful distance between them. He hit the light switch above the nightstand then lay on his back, listening as her breathing evened out in the dark.

“It was a groupie.”

Ginny opened her eyes and turned to look at her husband. “Hmm?”

“That’s why I came home so early. It didn’t feel right.”

She was quiet for so long that Mike wondered if she’d fallen back asleep. “You don’t have to… I mean, we’re married but you can still do your thing.”

He struggled to make out her features in the darkness. “I’d rather not but if you… If there’s someone—”

“There isn’t,” she interrupted then paused and lowered her voice. “I mean, there’s no one, but I don’t wanna stop you from—”

“I think the best thing would be for us to not date until we get this taken care of. That way we don’t have to explain our…situation.”

Ginny nodded. “Sounds good.”

X

Ginny’s alarm startled Mike awake and he jumped, startling Ginny awake as well. She lifted her head off his chest and again decided not to address the fact that this was the sixth time in as many days that she’d awoken cuddling her accidental spouse. Mike waited until she sat up to sit up beside her. He yawned, “Your alarm…”

Ginny reached over and turned off her alarm, yawning as she climbed out of bed. She stretched. “Come on, old man. It’s yoga time.”

“I’ll go as an observer but I’m not bending anything, rookie,” Mike replied as he climbed out of bed. He smirked at Ginny as she dug through the drawer of things she’d left behind over the past few months. “You know that drawer used to be full of _my_ clothes.”

“Yeah. Now they’re all in the drawer where this stuff used to be at my place.”

A short while later, Mike sat on a chair beside the pool, coffee in hand, watching Ginny stretch in the morning sun. She wore a gray long-sleeved bodysuit that made him think of ballet more than yoga, a thought didn’t persist as she stretched out her mile-long legs before her then looked over at him. “This would do wonders for your back.”

“My chiropractor does wonders for my back,” he replied, watching as she rolled onto her back and pulled her knees up to her chest.

“Chiropractors are big proponents of yoga.”

“How many men were in your classes? Ballpark?”

Ginny frowned as she thought. “Actually, just the teacher now that you mention it.”

Mike smiled triumphantly. “That’s because men don’t do yoga.”

“Joseph did.”

Mike snorted. “Joseph got paid handsomely to feel up pretty girls in spandex.”

She released her knees, let her legs fall apart as she brought the soles of her feet together. “He didn’t—”

“Correct your posture? Straighten out your limbs? Help you open up?” Ginny rolled onto her knees, facing away from him, and Mike watched as she arched and relaxed her back. “What do you call that?”

“Cat pose,” she replied.

“Bet Joseph was a big help with that,” he teased. She rose onto her feet, and bent at the waist, pushed her weight onto her hands. “And that?”

“Dolphin,” she answered.

Mike got out of his chair, walked over and pressed his hand dangerously low on her lower back. “Feel familiar?”

“Shut up. Not everyone’s a pervert like you,” she answered as she stood upright. She grabbed her right heel, extended her leg up as far as her arm could stretch, nearly losing her balance when Mike stepped closer, put one hand in the bend of her knee and one below her belly button.

“So he never did this?” Ginny flexed, opened her left hip up, then released it and repeated with her right leg, smirking when Mike continued with his “help”, pressed his groin against her and teased, “Whoa. Thought you were falling. Good thing I’m here to help.”

Ginny snorted. “I suddenly remember why I started doing this at home.”

Mike laughed as he let her go. “You almost done? Cause I’m gonna need some breakfast.”

Ginny nodded. “Yeah just let me cool down. We can go to Starbucks on the way to the store.”

x

Mike tied his boots, only stealing glancing at his wife as she picked out a white tank top then pulled on yet another pair of tiny shorts, these dark denim. “How many pairs of those shorts do you own?”

“A couple,” she replied with a shrug as she wandered around the room looking for her Converse.

“They’re in the closet,” Mike offered as he stood. Ginny walked to the closet and smirked at her shoes sitting neatly in line with Mike’s. She brought them out of the closet and sat on the bed to put them on. “Believe it or not, shoes don’t go beside whatever doorway you just went through.”

“That’s the easiest place to keep them.”

“And yet you couldn’t find them.”

“Because _you_ moved them.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Get your purse so we can go, Baker.”

Ginny went to the chair where she had left her purse then turned to frown at her husband. “What did you do with my purse?”

“Closet door,” he replied, grinning as she walked over to the closet and took her brown leather sling purse from the hook on the back of the door.

“We’re gonna have a talk about you moving my things, Mr. Baker,” she said as she passed him, headed for the front door.

“We’re gonna have a talk about how everything has a place, Mrs. Lawson,” he replied in the same tone as he followed. Ginny headed downstairs and grabbed his keys from their hook beside the front door, rolling her eyes at his organization, and Mike grinned as he plucked them from her hand. “Not a chance, Baker.”

“I’m gonna take that car in the divorce,” she threatened.

“I’ll just buy a new one with my alimony.”

X

Blip sat on the hood of his car, watching Mike and Ginny unload their mountain of canvas grocery bags. He could tell they were bickering in their usual way, but they stopped when they noticed him and he grinned. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Just Mike’s usual nonsense,” Ginny replied as she passed him and unlocked the front door.

“Mike?” he questioned as he followed, holding the door open for Mike to pass him, laden with grocery bags.

“I hope you’re here to get her,” Mike muttered as he entered the house.

Blip shut the door and followed them to the kitchen. He watched as Mike emptied the bags, handing Ginny groceries to put in the refrigerator. Blip climbed onto one of the stools in front of the island, watching them with amusement. “Fun trip to the grocery store?”

“If you consider an hour and a half in Whole Foods fun then sure. I’m euphoric. Ecstatic,” Mike replied as he dumped a bag of bananas onto the counter.

“You better not bruise those,” Ginny warmed as she hip-checked him and took over emptying her produce bags. She cut her eyes as Blip. “Apparently it’s a sin that Whole Foods doesn’t sell toaster waffles and microwavable bacon.”

“I just wanna know what we need an entire produce section for.” He put two cans of plain oatmeal in the cabinet. “And, of course, the baby food.”

 “For my smoothies. Besides, we buy enough greasy food. It’ll be nice to have some healthy food in the house.” Ginny pulled spinach and a bag of apples out of a sack. She tossed him a canvas bag. “But since you were pouting in the car while I checked out, I bought you those muffins you like.”

Blip smirked at the smile that spread over Mike’s face as he took the box of butter rum muffins out of the bag. He immediately opened it and took one out then offered the box to Blip who shook his head and took an apple instead. “So aside from the grocery wars, how’s married life?”

Ginny shrugged as she began folding her grocery bags. “One annoyance after the other.”

Mike smirked at his wife. “Well being with you is just a trip to the beach.”

Ginny laughed. “Oh you don’t have to tell me. It’s why you haven’t let me go home yet.”

“I haven’t kicked you out because I’m a nice guy, Baker.”

“You haven’t kicked me out because you love my company.”

“I tolerate your presence.” He leveled her with a comically serious look.

“It’s mutual.” Ginny headed for the door. “I’m gonna take a nap before dinner.”

“Pick your clothes out now, Baker,” he called as she ascended the stairs.

“Bite me, Lawson,” she replied.

Mike laughed to himself as he put away the last of the groceries, putting his muffins in a cabinet Ginny couldn’t reach then explaining to Blip, “She’s a snack thief.”

Blip nodded. “Ev too.”

Ginny re-entered the kitchen and went into the refrigerator to get an orange. Mike frowned at her, thick fingers clamping onto her forearm to keep her from leaving the kitchen. “You are _not_ eating that in my bed. I can’t take the smell.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and hopped on a stool beside Blip who’s eyebrows quirked at the large black sweatshirt swaddling his friend’s slight frame. “Nice sweatshirt. Looks familiar.”

Mike looked at his wife and frowned. “I’ve been looking for that.”

“I washed it last night so I borrowed it,” she replied.

Mike smirked, shaking his head. “So you stole it then returned to the scene of the crime with it?”

“Actually it was in your bag that I was kind enough to unpack, wash, then re-pack.” Ginny unzipped the hoodie and held it out to him.

Mike put the hoodie on and zipped it up. Blip smiled cheekily at him. “You smell pretty, Lawson.”

Mike lifted the sweatshirt to his nose and smelled it then frowned at Ginny. “And it smells like I bought it at Forever 21. Thanks so much.”

“Actually it smells like fabric softener, yet another kindness I did for you that’s apparently not going to receive a proper thank you.”

“What scent is it? _Girl_?”

“It’s apple mango tango. And you’re welcome.”

“Thank you so much for making me smell like I spent the day in a Claire’s.” He took a slice of her orange and ate it then frowned. “Why don’t you buy the little ones? They’re sweeter.”

“Because I need an adult-sized snack.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Hurry up and finish your snack so you can go away.”

Ginny ate the last slice of her orange then threw her trash away and went upstairs, calling, “See you later, Blip.”

“Bye Ginny,” he replied.

Mike asked, “So what brings you by, Sanders?”

“Ev says it’s nothing but wedded bliss over here so I had to see for myself.”

XX

**One Week Prior – 8 Weeks Until End of Season**

Evelyn grinned at Ginny’s sleepy face and rumpled hair when she opened the door. She squinted in the sunlight, only noticing the cup in Evelyn’s hand after her friend shook it. “Venti iced chai with soy milk, four pumps of raspberry, three sugars.”

Ginny frowned as she took the cup. “Close but not quite.”

She plopped on the couch and Evelyn frowned at the “uff” that followed, squinting at the pile of blankets until she realized there was a person underneath it. Mike lifted his head from the lump of pillows. “Jesus, Baker. If you wanna kill me, just cook something.”

“Well if you weren’t so big, you’d take up the normal amount of space on the couch, old man.” She shifted around until she was underneath his legs and set her cup on his right knee then looked at Evelyn. “What brings you by, Ev?”

“I went by the Regent to drag you to the mall but you weren’t there,” she replied.

“I’m so glad you’re here to get her,” Mike muttered and Ginny rapped her knuckles against his left kneecap, smiling when he groaned. “Hey! If you put me out of commission, you’re gonna have to take care of me, Mrs. Lawson.”

“I’m gonna throw you down the stairs,” Ginny replied then passed him her cup.

Mike frowned after he took a sip. “This is wrong.”

“I know,” Ginny replied as she took it back.

Evelyn watched them, her eyebrows raised. “So what have y’all been doing?”

“We were playing chess until the old man fell asleep,” Ginny replied, gesturing to the board on the coffee table. She frowned at it then looked back at Mike. “You’ve been cheating.”

“What?” He sat up and looked at the board. “No I haven’t. It’s exactly like it was.”

“No it isn’t. I had check in three.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes I did.”

“ _No_ you didn’t.”

“ _Yes_ I did.”

Mike opened his mouth to argue but stopped, remembering that they could—and had—argued that way for hours. He rolled his eyes. “Then let’s start over.”

Ginny rolled her eyes back. “We _just_ started over because you cheated.”

“We started over because you’re crazy and can’t remember your last move.”

“You’re the one who’s senile.”

Mike rolled his eyes again. “You know what, Baker, I’m gonna win anyway so go ahead and rearrange the board. Put it back however it _allegedly_ was and we’ll play from there.”

Ginny rearranged her pieces then slid from under his legs. “I’m gonna go get dressed. Don’t bother the board.”

She gave him her cup then turned to Evelyn. “Watch him.”

“Please,” Mike scoffed.

“You please,” Ginny replied with a smirk.

“Please.”

“You please.”

“Please.”

They continued their back and forth as Ginny walked to the stairs. “You please.”

“Please.”

At the top of the stairs, determined to have the last word, Ginny huffed. “You please.”

She rolled her eyes, smirking when she heard a far off, “Please.”

She took a quick shower, surprised to find Evelyn sitting on Mike’s bed when she came out of the bathroom. Evelyn grinned at her. “You’re sleeping with him.”

Ginny’s eyebrows quirked. “We share a bed if that’s what you mean.”

Evelyn smirked. “So you don’t know if the carpet matches the face?”

“Not that I know of,” Ginny replied as she went to the chair where she’d left her clothes, frowning when she realized Mike had moved her things again. She cursed to herself as she went to the closet and found her clothes on hangers on the empty side of his closet. She pulled on a black sweatshirt dress and took her newest pair of black and white trainers from the neat line of shoes. She re-entered the bedroom, her purse on her shoulder. Evelyn was still watching her. “What, Ev?”

“Why aren’t you sleeping with him? I mean, if getting married didn’t do whatever it is you’re so afraid of, having sex definitely won’t.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Ginny sat beside her, muttered, “And we did have sex. Once.”

“I want details. Vivid, electrifying, specific details. Go.”

“After the wedding, we went back to his room and at first we were just laughing on the bed.”

“Ahhhh, go on go on go on.” Ginny quirked her eyebrows at her friend and Evelyn cleared her throat. “Sorry.”

“He gave me a kiss. Then I gave him one. Then there was… a moment. This intense, strange moment.”

Evelyn leaned in, grinning. “Say more words.”

“We kissed some more and clothes started coming off then it was just… _happening_.”

“So how was it?”

Ginny blushed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Incredible.”

Evelyn let out an impossibly girlish squeal and Ginny rolled her eyes as she stood. “Okay slumber party’s over, Ev.”

“No it’s not. I wanna know why you can’t do it again. You’ve done it once. You know some people say it’s like riding a bike.”

Ginny snorted then shook her head. “We can’t just… It’s not that simple. Plus we’re supposed to be getting a divorce in like two months.”

“Supposed to be being the operative phrase.”

Ginny looked at her friend over her shoulder. “What?”

Evelyn shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

They descended the steps and found Mike still on the couch, flipping channels. Ginny walked over and took her cup from him, finished the last of her drink. “We’re heading out.”

“Bring me back some dinner,” he replied.

“Do you care what?”

Mike shook his head and looked up at his wife, leaning his head on the back of the couch.. “You need some money or something?”

Ginny snorted. “Come on. I’m the hotshot with all the endorsement deals. Do _you_ need some money?”

“I’ll get mine soon enough,” he replied with a smile.

Ginny laughed as she took hold of his face, leaned down, and popped a kiss on his lips. “Good day?"

"Always, Baker," he replied. 

Evelyn followed her friend out of the house, her jaw slack though she had the meager patience to wait for Ginny to shut the door before she exclaimed, “What the fuck was that?”

Ginny shrugged. “It started earlier this week. I think we’re just…trying something.”

She wasn’t sure what to make of their newest development, and they hadn’t discussed it so she added it to the list of things they’d talk about at some point.

“Trying my damn patience,” Evelyn muttered as they walked to the car.

XX

Mike chuckled. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“It’s something.” Blip bit his apple. “The two of you won the game for us last week.”

“And what does that have to do with us being married, Sanders?”

Blip shrugged. “Nothing to me. Skip’s the one who said it. According to him, y’all are _sleeping good_. His words, not mine.”

Mike’s eyebrows quirked if only because as usual Skip was correct. Ginny spending the night was doing wonders for his sleeping habits. He hadn’t been awake past midnight since the last time she’d gone home nearly two weeks prior, and even then sleeping on her shampoo-scented pillow had managed to eventually put him out. He shrugged. “We’re having an okay time. I don’t really know what to say beyond that.”

“But you’re still getting a divorce at the end of the season?”

Mike shrugged again. “As far as I know.”

“As far as you know. Hmmm…”

“ _Hmmm_ what?”

Blip shook his head, recalling that Evelyn told him Ginny gave a similar answer regarding the end of their marriage. “Nothing.”

x

A few hours later, Mike was picking out a shirt when Ginny threw open the bathroom door and stood in its doorway, frowning at him. “Why is there hair in my sink?”

“I shaved,” he replied, not looking away from his shirts. “And it’s my sink.”

“Wear the gray one.” Ginny smirked. “And the left one is your sink. The right one is mine.”

Mike put the gray shirt on the chair with his jeans. “In a surprising plot twist, it turns out they’re both my sinks.”

“We’re married. That means half of everything in this house is mine.”

“Then go use the guest bathroom. It has one sink that can be all yours.”

“I’m not giving up my spot in the bathroom because you can’t keep your beard to yourself.”

“If I wipe out the sink, will you be quiet?”

“Yes dear,” she replied with a grin.

Mike went into the bathroom and cleaned out the sink then called Ginny in. He frowned as he held her bottle of concealer. “Makeup does not go on the counter.”

“It does when I’m not done with it.” Ginny took the bottle and replaced it in its spot. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Mike snorted as he left the bathroom. “Hurry up. Don’t make me leave without you.”

x

“Did you see that brunette Sonny took home?” Ginny asked as she climbed into bed.

Mike laughed as he lay beside her. “The beer goggles were real tonight.”

Ginny snorted. “Oh you don’t have to tell me. I saw you eyeing that blonde with the ugly eyebrows.”

“I wasn’t eyeing anything but my plate to make sure you didn’t steal my food.”

“Hey your food is legally half mine.”

Mike laughed. “I can’t wait to get this divorce so my stuff can go back to being all mine.”

“California is an equal property state, old man, and we didn’t have a pre-nup so everything’s still half mine.” Ginny nudged him under the covers and Mike reached out to tickle her, starting a wrestling match. It was a losing battle for Ginny from the outset and she wasn’t surprised to end up pent under her husband’s heavy frame.

She was surprised at his ragged breathing, and the goosebumps it created on her flesh. Mike lowered his face to her neck, breathed in her scent. Ginny let out a gentle exhale, her fingers threading through his hair. Mike kissed the dip in her collarbone then made a trail up the hollow her throat, lingering on her chin before he kissed her lips. Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her knees up to bracket his hips.  

The need for air made them pause, gave reality just enough time to slip between them, and Mike sheepishly rolled off his wife, lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. Ginny rolled onto her side, thankful for the darkness to hide her red face.

X

The next morning neither of them mentioned what had happened. Ginny made their smoothies, sitting on the mail table beside the door while Mike looked around the house for his bag. She finally called, “Did you look in the doorway, old man?”

He stopped to look at her and frowned when he spotted his bag beside the front door. “Things have a _place_ , Baker.”

“Beside the door is a place,” Ginny replied with a smile as she hopped off the table. She picked up her own bag and hefted it on her shoulder then followed him out the door. Mike smirked at her sleeping on the way to the clubhouse, only rousing when he pinched her nose.

“Let’s go, rookie.”

Ginny tumbled out of the car and trudged to the trunk to get her bag. Mike handed it to her, tweaking her nose again, then grabbed his own bag. Ginny turned to him, her fist raised. “Good day?”

“I’ll try,” Mike replied, bumping their fists.

“Be nice to Livan?”

Mike shook his head. “Not a chance.”

“What about Robles?”

He shook his head again. “I’m not gonna be nice to your boyfriend.”

Ginny laughed. “He just wants you and Blip to make him your Cady Herron.”

“What?”

“Cady Herron? Lindsay Lohan’s character in _Mean Girls_?”

Mike shrugged. “I got nothing, Baker.”

“Okay so we’re watching that tonight. But basically he wants to the newest member of our clique.”

“We don’t have a _clique_. Hell, I didn’t want _you_. Blip just made me take you in like a baby at a fire station.”

“One, that’s mean. And two, that’s such a lie.”

“I want you now. Just be grateful.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Oh wow, thank you so much.”

Mike laughed, smacked a kiss on her lips. “Good day, though.”

“Fuck you.”

X

One Month Later – 1 Week Until End of Season

Ginny took her clothes out of the closet and laid them on the bed beside her open suitcase. She chalked up her lack of relief at the prospect of beginning divorce proceedings to her hatred for packing as she put things in the suitcase, and her anxiety over the strange turn in her relationship with Mike. The divorce papers had come at the beginning of the week and he had signed them without comment, not even a teasing remark about alimony.

By Wednesday he was staying downstairs until she was asleep, and even then he would sleep on the other side of the bed, deliberately out of her reach. He left his breakfast smoothies on the counter, started leaving practice earlier or later so they didn’t ride together. Ginny wasn’t sure what to make of the change, or how much it hurt, but she didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure what there was to say. She had known the day was coming, but assumed it would arrive with their usual jokes, not the silence that followed them around the house as they avoided each other.

“That’s mine.” Ginny wasn’t even sure when he’d come in the room. She watched him pick up a Padres shirt that was indeed his, and then a few other t-shirts too. He frowned at her. “You could have asked for these, you know.”

“Do I ever?” Ginny replied as she took out another shirt that was his and handed it to him. He took it with a huff, tossed them on the chair. “I thought everything had a place.”

“It did before you tore the room apart,” he snapped as he turned to leave. He tripped over her shoe and cursed as he kicked it aside. “Goddammit can you hurry up with this shit?”

“Sorry I’m existing here. I’ll try to do it a little smaller.”

“Do you have to be a smartass all the time?”

Ginny blinked at him. “Like you can talk.”

“I can do anything I want in my house.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, muttered, “Oh do not start about this house.”

“I’ll start if I want because guess what? This is my house!”

Ginny sighed. “I’m so glad I get to leave your house tomorrow.”

“Me too,” he replied as he headed for the doorway. He stopped and turned back. “I’m sick of you.”

Ginny picked up her things, tossing everything into the suitcase then pushed past him and carried everything into the guest room. She went back into their bedroom, picked up a few small things she’d left behind then stuffed her feet in her UGGs and grabbed her purse. Mike was sitting on the couch, scowling at the television when she passed.

Mike didn’t look up when the door shut, instead leaning forward and resting his head in his hands. He hadn’t meant to snap at her, or for any of the other things that had happened that week to go on, but the prospect of divorcing her, peculiar as their arrangement was, didn’t make him feel relieved like he’d thought. If he was honest, being married to her hadn’t been the slightest inconvenience. If anything, it had been a change for the better. But he couldn’t say that. Just like he couldn’t say any of the other things that had on his mind over the past few weeks.

Ginny wiped at her eyes as she drove to Blip and Evelyn’s house. It didn’t occur to her until she was parking that she probably should have asked to use his car before she left, but she hadn’t wanted to say anything to him. She walked up to the doorway and knocked. Blip answered a few moments later, and frowned at her.

“You’re not getting a divorce,” he guessed.

Ginny shook her head. “Oh, we definitely are after what just happened.”

He stepped back to let her in. Evelyn sat on the couch, a glass of wine in hand. When she caught sight of Ginny’s face, she got up to get another glass from the kitchen. Blip entered a moment later, looked at her. “Well, we called this. Which one do you want?”

“Mike talked to me last time. I guess I can try again,” she replied then grabbed her purse from the counter. She handed Blip the wine glass and he went back to the living room to sit beside Ginny.

“So what happened?”

Ginny shook her head, her eyes glassy. “Everything.”

He filled her glass and handed it to her. “I’m sure he was terrible, but it wasn’t about you—probably not anyway. When everything happened with Rachel, he got home and she was packing. She hadn’t called to say she was leaving, or even told him she was thinking about it. She was planning to be gone before he got there. So seeing you packing probably just brought it back up.”

“Then why didn’t he talk to me? We talk about everything else.”

Blip sighed. “You know how I said this probably wasn’t about you. Well the reaction to the packing probably wasn’t about you, but letting whatever y’all have been doing over there go is definitely about you.”

“I mean, we’ve been… It’s been different but… He could have talked to me about that. We talk about—”

“No you don’t, Gin. Y’all talk, but y’all don’t talk about the hard stuff.”

“That’s not—”

He turned to look at her. “Have y’all talked about what it means that y’all got married? Cause I can’t think of one person who was surprised it happened. Nobody thought Vegas but everybody knew it was only a matter of time before something happened. Have y’all talked about the fact that y’all had sex? Or how good it felt to live together? Or how easy it was to be married, how _little_ things actually changed between you?”

Ginny sheepishly shook her head. “We always meant to, but…”

“Have y’all at least talked about what the divorce means?”

“No because it doesn’t mean anything! Nothing’s changing, Blip.”

“Look me in the face and tell me nothing’s changing. Tell me getting a divorce after living like you two have been living isn’t going to make a difference. And if you can’t tell me that, tell me you’re perfectly okay with divorcing him, that you’ve been counting down the days until y’all aren’t married anymore because this is weird and changing your relationship?”

Ginny lowered her head into her hands. “How did we even get here Blip?”

“Y’all have had this coming for as long as I can remember, Gin.”

x

On the other side of town, Evelyn walked into Mike’s house and frowned at the sight of him on the couch. He looked up and surprise flashed in his eyes at the sight of her. She guessed he’d been expecting Ginny. She went to the kitchen, got one of Ginny’s lite beers from the refrigerator, then went back to the couch and sat beside him.

“So what happened?”

“She’s leaving,” he replied.

“And you didn’t think she would?”

“You know when Rachel left, it hurt but I wasn’t that surprised. I was surprised she was gonna do it without telling me, but I won’t say I didn’t see it coming. With Ginny, I just thought…”

“You figured something would change and you two would suddenly stop running from whatever it is between you.”

“I wouldn’t say it like that.”

“Mike.”

He finally turned to look at her and Evelyn inwardly smiled, proud that her mom voice still had its power. “I knew she would leave. I just didn’t think I would feel like this about her leaving.”

“And you decided to put on that charm of yours to show her just how okay you would be with her leaving.”

He gave a wry smile. “Well you know me, Ev.”

“I do. That’s how I know all this isn’t about her moving out.”

“It’s just been nice.”

“Why don’t you tell her that?”

“Because she’s been here. If she doesn’t see it, I can’t make her.”

“And what makes you think she doesn’t see it?”

“She’s leaving.”

“Like you agreed.”

“But—”

“Before you say anything else, answer this question for me: did you ask her to stay?”

“Was I supposed to?”

“Yes! How was she supposed to know you wanted her to stay if you didn’t say it?”

“The same way she knows everything else!”

Evelyn raised her eyebrows at him. “What else does she know Mike?”

Mike sighed, shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just so easy with us, and so good to not be alone all time. Not just to not be alone. To be with her, Ev. Holding her at night. Getting up with her in the morning. Kissing her and touching her. Even picking up her damn clothes that she leaves everywhere like we don’t have a walk-in closet.”

Evelyn frowned. She had seen them kiss, but Ginny hadn’t said a peep about them touching. “When exactly did the touching start?”

Mike shrugged. “About a month ago. After Voorhies’s birthday party. We came home and got ready for bed, and she smelled so good. At first I wasn’t kissing her, just breathing on her. Then once I started, I couldn’t stop. And she didn’t make me either. It just became this thing we did at night that we didn’t talk about the next morning. But now…”

“You doused everything in kerosene and lit a match.”

“Again, you know me.” He sighed, scrubbed his hand over his face. “How do I fix this, Ev?”

Evelyn sighed, finished her beer. “You’ve gotta tell her the truth.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Okay then let’s come up with some elaborate scheme to make her think staying with you is all her idea. What would Wil E. Coyote do?”

Mike smirked. “Tell Blip not to send you anymore.”

X

Though he waited up as long as he could, Mike never heard Ginny come home, and she was gone when he awoke and dressed for court. He knew she’d been there though because the divorce papers were signed and left on the table underneath his keys on the island in the kitchen, along with an apple cinnamon oatmeal smoothie, his favorite.

Mike picked up his things and headed for the front door but stopped when he found her favorite blue Polo baseball cap hanging up beside the door. He recalled hanging it up there and took it down as he left so he could give it back to her at the courthouse.

Ginny was waiting in the lobby when he entered the courthouse. She looked up when he sat beside her. “Did you remember the papers?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, handing her her cap.

Ginny smirked at him though she put the hat on to cover her riotous curls. “For someone who’s so sick of me, you should be a lot happier.”

“I don’t wanna do this,” he finally muttered after a minute.

Ginny frowned, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees and look at him. “Then what do you _want_ , Mike?”

 “You.” He dragged his eyes away from his shoes and looked at her. “It’s always been you.”

“You might say it _had_ to be me.”

Mike finally cracked a smile. “Shut the fuck up, Baker.”

Ginny laughed. “Don’t piss me off. I’ll go turn those papers in.”

“And miss out on the rest of the Mike Lawson Experience? Not a chance.”

“I’d like a refund on my ticket.”

Mike laughed as he stood, squeezed her shoulder. “Shut up and come on.”

Ginny stood, shyly linked their fingers. “Can we get some breakfast?”

Mike shook his head. “We’re going back to bed. It’s like 8 in the fucking morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> I work for comments XOXOXO


End file.
